Japan and The Seven Chibis
by WhimsicalShmoo
Summary: Arranged to marry Russia, Japan must flee deep into the woods to avoid certain death at the hands of his psychotic, soon-to-be sister. There he meets the 7—er, 8 chibis, who only complicate matters. Can he sort out their lives while trying to fix his own?
1. Prologue

**Hello everyone. This story is co-written by one of my friends and me. She does not have a fan-fiction account, however, so we're posting it on mine. I'll have to ask her what she wants to be referred to as...can't just call her my friend forever.**

**Anyway, this is basically Snow White with Hetalia characters...along with a couple changes for humour's sake. We should be updating fairly quickly in the future, but this prologue is just up to reserve the spot for fear anyone else comes up with the same idea and we then feel like we're copying.** **The rest of the story will be posted once we get farther along with it (my friend is on vacation, so she hasn't had time to write)**

**That being said, here's the prologue, written by my friend. We alternate every chapter, and proofread/edit eachother's work. Hope you like it :]**

**Disclaimer: We do not own Hetalia.**

* * *

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, there lived a king and his queen. The queen was an otaku, so she wanted a pretty son with hair black as night, eyes like whirlpools in the darkness, and skin white as the hair of those quote "super hot anime hunks that are completely bad ass."

When the queen told the king this, he first looked at her incredulously and then was at a loss of what to say. After a few minutes he just responded that it was highly unlikely that it would turn out that way unless the child was a vampire, to which the queen responded "vampires are awesome too!" After that she was confused as to why her husband left with his hand on his forehead muttering something about finding an aspirin.

Oh how the queen would have pointed and laughed, "Ha! I told you so!" if she weren't so tired and in such excruciating pain when her ebony haired, midnight eyed, almost inhumanly pale son was born.

She decided to name him Japan, which the king found very odd, but seeing as she was in pain and still having hormone influxes, didn't dare comment about. For some reason everyone in the kingdom called the prince, "snow white", which although fitting, was a rather random nickname. It stuck fast however, so there wasn't really anything the king could do, especially since it overjoyed the queen that her beautiful son was given such a "cute" nickname.

Unfortunately, much to the grief of the kingdom, the queen died of illness shortly after Japan's 4th birthday. There was much mourning by the king and the fair prince. The king didn't marry again, for his mother had read him the fairy tales of how the step-mothers treated their step-children, and he loved Japan far too much to let that happen. But while the king was busy trying to avoid evil step-mothers, he failed to realize that there could be other potential non-blood relations that would be of danger to the prince.

When Japan was 14, his father arranged a marriage to a mysterious, if not somewhat sketchy, 15 year old boy named Russia, in order to strengthen ties with them. Russia's family wish for him to marry the cutest in the land, and it was believed that Japan would grow up to fit that role. Neither Russia nor Japan was happy with the arrangement, though, seeing as Japan didn't even know Russia, and Russia had a boyfriend named America. However, there was another who was even more upset about the engagement.

That was Russia's sister, Belarus, who was currently the cutest in the entire kingdom.

But contrary to her appearance, she was psychotic and bent on marrying her brother. She even went as far as to plan on turning America into a dwarf, but later decided on a chibi instead due to the advice from her magic mirror. The magic mirror, also known as China, responded that chibis were so much cuter (aru).

Her plans were nearly put off when she mistakenly turned America's twin brother, Canada, into one. Not bothering to fix her error, she simply went forward with her plans and turned America into a chibi as well, forcing the twins to live with the other chibis deep in the forest. Since there are only supposed to be seven chibis, Belarus realized that an extra two would cause problems after she performed the spells.

If Japan did grow to be the cutest in the land, then she would kill him so that no one would stand in the way of her marrying Russia. Both Russia and Belarus (with the help of a few threats) moved into the castle.

Belarus forced Japan to wear a dress to distract from his cuteness by making people laugh at him. Because she was paranoid, Belarus would ask her magic mirror everyday, "mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the cutest of them all?" and every day she would get the same answer.

"You are, though Shinatty is much cuter than you are aru," China would murmur sullenly.

To this remark, Belarus would reply, "what's so cute about that servant in a cat suit!? He's more creepy than anything! Oh well, he's just a servant so that means that I will marry Russia."

And this continued until Japan turned 17.


	2. Chapter 1

**All right, everyone, here's the first chapter. My friend, who has asked to be called Hadoken, finished the second chapter, and that will be up once I finish the third. Hopefully that won't take too long.**

**Anyway, enjoy. And thank you everyone who has reviewed or alerted or favorited this story so far :D **

**Disclaimer: We do not own Hetalia.** **I have no witty comments to make.**

* * *

It was a beautiful mid-spring afternoon, the flowers around the castle brightly blooming, the birds fluttering about merrily and chirping cheery little tunes. The clouds overhead were large and fluffy, wispy marshmallows set against a background of pure blue.

Japan sat next to the well for a momentary break, head back, eyes closed against the bright sunlight. Most of his morning had been spent cleaning the courtyard and valiantly trying once again to dissuade the birds from pooping all over the newly-cleaned floor. As always, his efforts had been fruitless, and he would have to spend another several hours scrubbing the same area. He sighed in frustration.

A particularly curious bird chose that moment to peck at Japan's hand. He blinked, looking down at the little creature. It gazed back up at him, twittering sweetly and tipping its head at a cute angle.

"What?" Japan questioned, a smile spreading over his lips. "Would you like me to sing or something? I don't see how that's very fair, considering you and your friends keep making extra work for me."

The bird continued to stare at him, with its little black eyes wide and expectant, ruffling its feathers in the most adorable way the prince-turned-maid had ever seen. Japan had always been a sucker for cute things, ever since he accidentally got locked in that room with the magic mirror who was obsessed with Hello Kitty. It even tried to convince him that a servant in a cat suit named Shinatty was cute, but that only scarred Japan for life.

As the tiny creature continued its begging routine, he could not help but oblige. His voice was soft and melodious, an octave or so deeper than one might expect from his appearance. The melody was one of the few lullabies Japan could remember his mother singing to him, those four years he had been able to spend with her. Probably some anime theme or ending, based on what he knew about his deceased parent and the entire closet full of anime DVDs and manga.

He missed her dearly, even now, 13 years later, and singing the songs she had once sung to him was one of the only ways he could feel closer to her. That and watching anime, a hobby he had taken up in his sparse free-time. Granted she probably wouldn't do anything about the dress but he could live with that. It was actually surprisingly comfortable.

Lost in his thoughts as he was, Japan failed to notice the presence of another until he spoke.

"That's a nice voice you have." Startled, Japan jumped up, glancing over to his left where a young man sat. The bird, angry that the prince had stopped singing, began attacking the stranger violently, causing him to nearly fall into the well as he tried to evade their assault. With Japan's help, the two were eventually able to ward off the flying critters, though not without receiving a good deal of damage. However most of it, if not all, had been done to the nameless man.

He smiled at Japan with relief at the fact that he was no longer being kamikazed by rabid sparrows, mixed with something that might have been amusement. Japan couldn't be sure. His emerald eyes sparkled with left-over adrenaline and merriment. Cautiously, Japan backed off a few paces. The stranger ran his fingers through his blond hair, before holding both hands up in front of him, assuring peace, "No need to worry. I'm not going to hurt you." And then he laughed: a short, amiable chime.

Japan felt his cheeks coloring, and retreated several more steps, only to have the other move forward to take hold of his wrist, gently, albeit firmly. "Now don't go running away from me. I only wish to talk."

"I-I," Japan stuttered, looking frantically between the young man's smiling face, and his captured wrist. "I really must finish up my chores." His gaze flickered to the empty bucket and the brush beside it, which he darted for the moment his hand was released.

The blond-haired one looked on in amusement as the smaller man rushed to the well, placing the bucket on the hook before agitatedly cranking the handle, his face still a vibrant crimson. There was a silence, filled only with the faint splash of the bucket filling and its return trip back up the shaft. When Japan took the bucket and returned to the site of his previous work, the other man followed.

"My name is England, by the way," the blond remarked, kneeling beside where the other was scrubbing, careful to avoid bird droppings. "And you are Japan, correct?"

Japan jolted sharply, nearly upending the bucket. "H-How did you know my name?" he asked nervously, the brush in his hand still as he looked up at the other with a mix of expectancy and wariness.

"Well, you _are _the prince, aren't you? Everybody in the kingdom talks about how absolutely adorable you are. And true to their words, the dress really does make you look even cuter."

Japan looked thoroughly embarrassed, if not somewhat mortified, by the comment. Even the tips of his ears were red by this point, and so he returned to his work vigorously, determined to try and ignore the other.

"I was wondering if you would like to accompany me out to dinner this evening."

So much for ignoring him. "I-I apologize," Japan dropped the brush this time, straightening, though still refusing to look the other in the eye. "I don't understand the principles of these…jokes."

"It's not a joke," the other replied, his expression now rather offended. "Am I that far beneath your standards, that my proposition is _laughable_?"

"No, of course not," Japan assured, taking the brush once again and continuing his chore, as he mumbled, "I just didn't think…I didn't…this isn't one of those cheap romance novels…I just _met_ you, I mean…"

England looked mildly surprised as he was a big fan of those "cheap romance novels". He opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it.

Japan stood, taking the bucket and splashing its contents over the freshly scrubbed stone. England followed after him as he made his way back to the well.

Just as the bucket was once more full and safely on the stone surrounding the well, Japan felt two arms twine around him from behind. "E-England!" he blushed furiously, trying to push the other away. "Wha-what are you doing? That was my first time!"

"Eh?" the other responded intelligently, allowing the smaller man to pull away fully.

"I-I," face still red as a strawberry, he fumbled for what little composure he had left. "I need you to take responsibility!"

"For _hugging_ you?" England clarified, incredulous. Japan looked away, fingers fidgeting spasmodically as he tried to diminish his blush.

"I…I apologize for over reacting," he began, still not looking up at the other. "About tonight, I-"

"You'll accept?"

"I-I never said-"

"Wonderful! I'll see you at 7, then?"

"England, I…" But the other had already left, leaving nothing but empty air where he had before stood.

Japan shook his head silently to himself, before grabbing the bucket and returning to his never-ending chore. Sure enough, the spot that had been clean several minutes previous was once again filled with bird excrement. He would have to work quickly if he wanted any chance at being able to meet with England as offered. Not that he liked him or anything.


	3. Chapter 2

**Hi! As you all know if you read the author's note from the prologue, WhimsicalShmoo and I are writing this story jointly. I now have a name, I am Hadoken. I hope I meet all of your expectations. Enjoy reading Japan and the Seven Chibis :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia in any way so I have to say that I used quotes from "Checkmating Poland".**

* * *

Belarus, very predictably, went to consult her magic mirror as to whom the cutest in the land was.

"Mirror, Mirror on the wall, who's the cutest of them all?"

"Well, next to Shinatty, Japan is aru," China replied casually.

"WHAT!?" Belarus screeched, clenching her fists in anger, eyes narrowed.

"Well, Prince England just kind of forced Japan to go on a date with him aru, and you don't have to keep saying that rhyme. 'Magic Mirror, who's the cutest?' Would suffice, aru." China informed, irritated. After years and years of being ask the same question, with the same round-about wording, it was really starting to get on his nerves.

"No! Russia can't marry him! Japan will have to die," Belarus announced darkly, turning her back on the enchanted reflective surface. "Lithuania!"

She was met with silence. "Why isn't he coming!?" she demanded, whirling around furiously to the mirror once more.

"Well, most people don't wait outside your secret chamber for you to call them, aru."

"…I'll go get him then." Belarus pouted, storming out of the room.

"PMS-ing isn't cute, aru," China murmured to himself, watching her leave.

* * *

After about 10 minutes, Belarus found Lithuania attempting to play chess with Poland, the cross-dresser responsible for selecting the latest fashions for the royal family. On many occasions, he helped chose clothes for Japan as well, a task he thoroughly enjoyed, especially after being all but ordered to ensure the prince wore dresses, and dresses only. Even while working, he had to wear such clothes, although they were considerably less elegant than his everyday wear, considering the task involved.

"I have you cornered, Poland," Lithuania announced, sliding one of the pieces across the board. "What will you do now?"

"Like, no way!" the blond looked momentarily alarmed, before pausing, as if in realization and grinning, "I'm, like, totally putting "Poland's rule" into operation: it will always be my turn!"

"But that's cheating! Now it's just a one-sided fight with chess pieces!"

"If I may interrupt your game-" Belarus started, only to be cut off by an enthusiastic Pole.

"That I'm like totally winning at!"

"…Quite. Lithuania, I need you to do something for me."

Now, Lithuania had a small crush on Belarus (much to Poland's dismay) so his answer was obvious.

"Sure! I'll gladly be of service, my lady," he agreed brightly, standing up.

"But we're, like, in the middle of a game!" Poland whined, casting a jealous glance at Belarus.

"You've essentially won already," the platinum blonde pointed out.

"…"

"Well if that is all, Lithuania, come with me," she made to leave the room, Lithuania trailing after her.

"Don't you dare break his fingers again!!" Poland threatened, getting to his feet and yelling after her. She paid him no heed and merely continued on her way.

Once out of sight of the cross-dressing clothing coordinator and sufficiently inside the dungeon/lab (as no one had the guts to go near that ominous looking door), Belarus instructed Lithuania of what he must do.

"Now, I need you to go take Japan out into the field to pick wildflowers."

"Why?" Lithuania responded, nonplussed. "I know he has to wear a dress, but he's not a girl. Does he really enjoy that type of thing?"

"Fine, go have him look at the Sakura trees, then," Belarus conceded, her previous irritation returning. She handed Lithuania a miniature black lacquered box. "Open this when you get to the Sakura tree grove. There are instructions inside, and if you follow through with them exactly as written, I will go on a date with you."

"R-really?" Lithuania stuttered in pleasant surprise. "I will not fail you, Belarus!" He assured, before rushing away to find Japan, and nearly tripping over himself in the process.

"Perfect. Now I won't have to dispatch Shinatty to deal with that otaku prince. He's so creepy..." Belarus gave an uncharacteristic shudder of disgust.

"He's cute, aru!" the magic mirror defended indignantly. Belarus opened the door to her lab, glaring icily at the enchanted object.

"God dammit, China, don't scream out like that! One, it's my secret lab and I don't want people finding out about it. And two, if anyone sees a talking mirror they'll think they're hallucinating off Sealand's cooking! God knows where he inherited that complete inadequacy for cooking."

"I think he once mentioned something about having a brother, aru..."

"Shh! Someone's coming!"

Belarus promptly shut the door (all two inches that were open) and leaned against the wall like she wasn't doing anything.

"I need to find Japan so I can tell him that singing originated in Korea!" Yong Soo muttered to himself as he rounded the corner, completely ignoring Belarus. "Ha! Finding also originated in Korea!"

After the voice faded, Belarus sighed in relief, before returning to her previous business. Her face split into the dark and if not slightly psychotic smile she reserved for plotting evil schemes and stalking her brother. "Now all I have to do is wait for my plan to unfold…"

"Is Korea gone aru? I just can't deal with him right now!" China's sullen muttering was barely audible from outside the room.

"What the-!? The door's closed! Stop talking before someone hears you!"

**Meanwhile only a few yards away…**

Austria, the head of entertainment via piano, stood around the corner. Hearing the noble carry on her seemingly one-sided conversation, he sighed to himself.

"It must be so difficult dealing with the stress of noble life… I shall express this feeling by playing the piano." And he promptly walked away to accomplish just that.


	4. Chapter 3

**All right, everyone, well then. The past few days Hadoken and I have been sick. Neither of us felt much like writing, and goofed off all weekend, so we're running a bit behind schedule, but we're trying to get things back in whack. Just bear with us. She's working on chapter 4 right now, so once I finish chapter 5, we'll have that up.**

**Thank you for reading so far. You guys are wonderful. Hopefully this chapter will be to your liking as well. Not quite as funny as the others, but I digress. It kind of needed to be that way.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Hetalia, Russia would have much more screen time :3 He needs more love...**

* * *

"You picked a wonderful day to visit the Sakura grove, Lithuania-san," Japan complimented, sitting down among the stray petals, leaning back against a tree. He had the habit of politely addressing everyone, even the servants, no matter how hard his father encouraged him to act otherwise.

"I thought your majesty would appreciate it," the taller man smiled, kneeling beside the other. They were silent for a few moments, merely appreciating the lovely weather and beauty nature had to offer.

"Lithuania-san…I," Japan began, picking up a fallen blossom in his hands to fidget with. "Have you ever…have you ever liked someone? As more than a friend?"

The brown-haired man started slightly, blushing slightly as his mind instantly went to Belarus. "I have." As he was thinking, Poland invaded his thoughts and proceeded to attack Belarus with what appeared to be a hairdryer. After internally panicking, Lithuania shook the thought from his head, hoping Japan wouldn't notice.

"What…what is it like?" Japan questioned further, red tinting his own cheeks as he concentrated on the object in his hands.

"It's hard," Toris admitted, running a hand through his hair. "Your happiness depends on theirs, and no matter how much they push you away, you can't stop caring for them. All you want is to see them smile, and want you to spend time with them. And there isn't anything you can do about it…" he trailed off, glancing down at the lush grass growing to his left.

"Ah, I see." Japan sighed, pulling his knees to his chest, and tilting his head back to look for shapes in the clouds. It had always been a favorite pass-time of his.

Feeling the prince was sufficiently preoccupied and having succeeded in tying the Poland in his thoughts to a chair to prevent Belarus's mutilation via hair styling tool, Lithuania pulled the miniature box out of his pocket covertly, unlatching the lid.

Inside sat a folded piece of white parchment and a tiny silver dagger no bigger than the length of his middle finger, but sharp as a needle. Curious, he glanced once more at Japan, making sure he was still gazing up at the sky, before unfolding what he presumed to be his directions:

_As of today, it would appear Snow White has finally reached his potential as cutest in the land. That being said, it is imperative that he be disposed of immediately. Plunge the knife deep into his chest, being careful to aim properly, and once you are sure he is dead, use that same weapon and cut out his heart, to bring back to me as proof of the deed._

_~Belarus_

Lithuania reread the message a second time, hoping against hoping he had somehow managed to misread it somewhere, but to no avail. He held the small knife in his hand, his fingers trembling as he looked back over at the prince.

Japan was sitting back against the tree, dark eyes drowsily watching the clouds drift by overhead, a small content smile creasing his mouth at the corners. It would be so easy, so terribly easy to attack right now, while he was off guard. The boy would expect nothing, would hardly have time to react before it would be too late. Lithuania felt sick just thinking about it.

He couldn't do this, not even for Belarus. But what would she do if he returned with Snow White still alive and well? She'd have to go with plan B. Belarus always had a plan B that was one of the things that drew Lithuania to her, she was always so prepared, but now it terrified him.

The lighter-haired man was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't notice the prince was no longer paying attention to the sky, and was now staring in disbelief at the knife in his hand.

"Lithuania-san…why?" Japan's eyes were wide with confusion and fear, as he watched the other get to his feet, small dagger still clenched firmly in his grip. His dark eyes alighted on the paper as it fluttered to the ground, only seeing the word "dead", as the rest blurred out of focus. This couldn't be happening, Lithuania would never do this. "I…I don't understand. Why?"

And then, much to his relief, the taller man dropped the dagger. "Snow White, I…Belarus, the sister of your fiancé. She asked me to kill you, because you have become a threat to her and her wish to marry her brother. But I can't."

Japan's eyes widened further if possible.

"Y-you need to run, run far away from here. She'll…she'll kill both of us if she learns I let you escape. You need to go!"

The smaller man got to his feet, but made no move to leave. "I'm not afraid Lithuania, I will go and confront Belarus about this."

"No," the brunette replied, shaking his head. "You have to. I'm just glad she picked me as her first plan over Shinatty so I could warn…" Lithuania trailed off looking around to find no prince. "Japan? Oh, well I guess he took my advice. Feeling relieved beyond words, Lithuania made his way back to the castle thinking up a plausible excuse to give to Belarus.

* * *

Japan looked around, astounded that the woods could get so thick such a short distance into them. But he kept onward, not looking back. He didn't even want to think of facing Shinatty as a possible plan B. That man was the creepiest thing alive. Japan had been sure of that ever since he first met the magic mirror. He even used to insist on locking the door to keep the kitty-dressed-man out of his room. Now that he looked back on it, it probably just prevented Belarus from killing him in his sleep.

It seemed so much darker in here, even though he knew the Sakura grove stood behind him, only a few feet away. Or was it behind him? He wasn't sure anymore. All he knew was that he couldn't go back to the castle, lest he risk both he and Lithuania death's by Belarus' deranged hands. Or worse. Face Shinatty. Japan shuddered at the thought.

And so, he started walking, in what he presumed was the direction away from his home, where he had spent the whole 17 years of his life.

The woods quickly grew to look the same, each passing branch and fallen trunk looking as if he had seen it only moments before. Was it getting darker in here? Japan couldn't be certain, but guessed that it must be around sunset by this point. It was getting harder and harder to see the overgrown roots and bushes underfoot, causing him to stumble every several paces, and the dress certainly didn't help.

"Argh! Why didn't Poland ever give me any shorter dresses, or at least a knee length skirt!?" he grumbled to himself, thinking back on the relevant occasion:

"Like, oh my god, you look so cute in that dress!" Poland grinned, clasping his hands in front of him, ecstatic. "We should have you try on some others in that style."

"_Um, Poland-san, these are really quite restricting," Japan input politely, testing out his range of mobility._

"_Japan, it's not like you'll, like, have to run away from anyone through the woods or anything," Poland waved his hand dismissively, reaching for Japan's wrist to drag him back towards the walk-in closet. "Now, come on, I know just what to, like, have you try on next!"_

Japan exhaled in vexation at the memory and kept on running, cursing Poland's fashion sense.

After awhile, he developed the odd sense that he was being followed, a notion he at first dismissed as paranoia, but later gave credit to when he heard a loud _snap_ behind him. Whirling around, Japan scanned what little he could still see in the near pitch black.

Seeing nothing, he bent down to pull off the high heels that had become part of his wardrobe over time, holding one pointed shoe in his left hand, ready to lash out with, as he chucked the other into the darkness where he had swore the noise had originated from.

Nothing happened.

Content that he was not being followed, the dark-haired man continued on his way, the going decidedly easier, though slightly more painful when he stepped on the odd briar every now and again in his thinly stocking-ed feet.

It wasn't much later when Japan heard yet another snap, this one followed by a second in quick succession, and a loud rustle of leaves. Spinning around, he tried his best to develop night vision on the spot, failing miserably. Shapes seemed to be forming in the darkness, half-formed nightmares that he really did not want to dwell on.

Giving things a last once over, for all the good that would do, he went onwards, quickening his pace. It wasn't until he felt something brush against his arm, and glanced over his shoulder to see a phantom Shinatty feet behind him, did he break out into a full run, no longer caring about the prickers cutting into the soles of his feet, or much of anything for that matter, other than escaping from the creep behind him.

A branch caught on his dress, snagging deep in the silk, but to his mind it was the meaty hand of the Hello Kitty costume-obsessed man, grabbing at him to pull him into one of his entirely unwanted and terrifying hugs. Heart-racing, Japan ripped the fabric free, smashing his toes on all manner of stones and underbrush as he ran, but not having half a mind to care.

Unsurprisingly, a particularly large root decided to spite him, knocking into him near knee level and causing him to crash flat on his face. He had barely fallen before he was up again, sprinting through the woods as fast as he could in the suddenly constricting garment. All the years he had to wear the stupid thing, he had never hated it more than he did at this moment.

Eventually, he could go on no more, and fell down bodily into the hollow between some ridiculously tall roots. It was there he spent the remainder of the night, curled fearfully in on himself, trying to suppress his rapid breathing, and dreading the moment that horrid Shinatty would catch up to him, and poke his grossly disproportionate head into his hiding place.

The morning was long in coming.


	5. Chapter 4

**Hi everyone! I've decided to change my name because I figured out that the Hadoken actually siphons the love from the universe and twists it into destructive energy (and the divorce rates go up every time it's used) so yeah '**

**I shall call myself NekoNya for the time being :3 Yes, I know it's not very good but I couldn't think of anything else, but if anyone has any better ideas please tell me, thanx ^^**

As Japan lay curled on the slightly damp forest floor, he felt something nuzzle his hair. When he glanced up he was surprised to find a tiny squirrel chittering curiously. Upon further surveying the area Japan saw that there was a whole manner of forest animals studying him as if to say "who in their right mind would try to sleep on a whole mess of roots?"

"Oh, hello," he greeted groggily, sitting up.

All the animals darted away

"Eh? I'm not scary or anything and I'm not a hunter either, why are you all running away?" inquired Japan in mild confusion, blinking the sleep from his eyes. It was then that a familiar little sparrow that loved to hear singing decided to flitter down to land on his shoulder.

"Oh, I remember you. Found any more people to peck to death?" He asked jokingly, watching the little creature.

The bird gave a satisfied look and what seemed to be a nod, which really disturbed Japan, but before he could give any more thought about it, and once again scare himself out of his wits, he decided to concentrate on other things.

"Do any of you know where I could stay the night?" he questioned

A small, striped kitten came out from the cluster of critters, meowing softly at the prince, before making its way off into the woods. Japan watched it go, debating whether or not he should follow the cat and wondering how much sanity he must have lost for him to believe the creatures could actually understand his request, let alone comply to it adequately.

But before he could make up his mind on the matter, the beyond cute woodland animals proceeded to lead, borderline drag, Japan in the direction the kitten had taken. They walked through the oppressive forest for what seemed like hours, before they finally came to a small cottage.

Cautiously, Japan took a quick peek inside, before pulling rapidly away and proceeding to sneeze violently.

Holding his breath this time, he entered the dismal looking cottage, careful to avoid the shower of dust that seemingly fell from nowhere when he opened the door. Inside, he found a complete and near hopeless mess.

"What a mess," Japan observed to himself, before his eyes alighted on a cleaning instrument, attached to the wall via cobwebs. "Oh, look, a conveniently placed broom. One would think that since it's in such a convenient location, whoever lives here would actually think to use it every now and again." He muttered aloud to no one, before taking the cleaning device in hand.

All of the woodland creatures looked expectantly at the fair prince.

"I suppose you all want me to sing as well?" Japan asked, slight exasperation making it's way into his voice.

They all jumped around enthusiastically, there adorable little eyes watching him with such intensity. How could he refuse?

"Oh well, let's get on with it then," Japan sighed, before starting to sing in his sweet voice.

The cleaning went smoothly more or less, with the animals helping him out a great deal (Japan really didn't care to get into the hygienic issues this presented). He had to pause a couple times, first to scold the squirrels for hiding dust under the rug, and then to stop the deer from washing plates with their tongues.

But Japan was a dedicated and efficient worker, and put himself whole-heartedly into the task. Before he knew it, the dust and other debris was gone, everything straightened up into satisfactory order. Still singing softly to himself, he glanced at the window, starting when he was met with darkness and the twinkling of the first stars. "How did it get so late…?"

The creatures, now finished with their assorted tasks, watched with interest as the little sparrow attempted to attack the sky for distracting the snow-white prince from his singing. Japan smiled in amusement, stifling a yawn.

After a night of running through the woods, terrified out of his mind, followed by a day of serious cleaning, he was exhausted. Deciding he might as well stay the night after all his hard work, Japan ventured up the staircase, careful to avoid the 3rd and 4th steps that appeared as if some small person had been bodily thrown into them.

Within the large solitary room at the top, he found eight little beds. Much to his surprise, each one had a name inscribed across the footboard: Doc, Dopey, Bashful, Happy, Grumpy, Sleepy, and Pervy. The last bed had the word "Sneezy" written upon it like all the others, though that name had been crossed out, a resolute "Hero!" scribbled in sloppily below it.

"What strange names." Japan murmured to himself, offering another sleepy yawn.

Deciding to get a move on, lest he fall asleep there and then, the prince pushed together three of beds, making sure to leave out the one so dubiously named "Pervy". Being of a rather diminutive structure, he easily fit upon the three beds.

They were so comfortable, aside for at first laying on what looked like a white flag on one of the beds, that in fact within minutes Japan was soundly asleep, dreaming of sweet, meaningless nonsense.

England rode to the castle on his royal steed, Charles. Charles was a magnificent pearly white unicorn and the favorite of all the horses that England owned. However, it never ceased to annoy England that everyone kept insisting it was a regular horse and failed to see the horn.

He rode up to the door and had a page go ask for Snow White. He had planned to have him over for a lovely dinner at a restaurant favored by nobles in the area.

"Um, your highness, Prince Japan is not in the castle," the page squeaked, returning to the door.

"But I was supposed to bleeding pick him up, where is he?" England insisted, rather put out that all his plans were amounting to naught.

"Well, he went out to look at the Sakura trees, and never came back," the page explained.

"What!? I know I scared him a little, but running away is just bloody well extreme!"

"I don't think that was the reason," assured the page. "I doubt he intended for this to happen. He's much too polite to stand someone up."

"I see, then I must find him! He could be lost or hurt or…" England trailed off, realization dawning on him. "Hey, wait a minute, you're just a page…how do you know all this?"

Said page brandished a sly grin.

"Maids aren't the only ones who know everything."

"If you know everything then where is Japan?" countered England, watching as the page struggled for a response.

"…"

"Didn't think so," England smirked, turning away and remounting his valiant steed. "Come on Charles! We have a damsel in distress to rescue! Uh, I mean, prince! Oi, that dress makes him look too bloody effeminate."

Striking a sudden heroic pose and nearly falling off his horse, er, "unicorn" in the process, England rode off into the distance in search of his fair prince. Unfortunately, he had left so quickly; he didn't hear the page shout after him.

"Prince England! You're going the wrong way!"

**Sorry this was so late, I hate really bad writers block and a ton of homework. I feel really bad for making you all wait even after all the awesome reviews. **

**If you have maids, beware. They know everything.**


	6. Chapter 5

**All right then. Hi everyone. This took longer than expected to put up. But there is a reason. During the week, I now have Driver's Ed, two hours a day, five times a week. Once that's over with, updates should pick up a little. But bear with us here.**

**That being said, here's the chapter. Thank you for reading, everyone ^^**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Hetalia, Russia and America would actually_ interac__t_ **

* * *

The seven chibis were heading home from mining as they did everyday when the sun was beginning to set. It had been a good day at work, many jewels having been collected, and minimal trouble arising. But that all came to an end when a flustered America ran up to them, about 20 minutes away from their home.

"Guys, guys!" America began excitedly, pointing wildly over his shoulder. "I was patrolling the area—"

"You mean skipping out on doing your share of the work. Again," Romano interjected, short temper already incited.

"No, it _is_ work! Some one has to make sure no evil is lurking a foot," America protested, waving his arms to emphasize his point. "And since I'm the hero…"

"We know, America, we know," Germany sighed exasperatedly. "But would you please get to the point?"

"I would if you guys stopped interrupting me!" America accused, before continuing. "ANYWAY, I was going about my usual duties, looking out for danger and all that, when I saw the light on at our house. And it was off when we left, so that means someone's _in there_!!!" His waving arms reached record speed, flailing about.

Germany frowned, looking troubled. "Are you sure? And stop waving your arms or you might actually take someone's eye out this time."

"Of course I'm sure, I'm the hero!" the blond looked offended. "And I only hit Greece once! So what if he passed out? He's always asleep anyway…Besides, I'm the hero, so—"

"Dammit, stop saying that, you hero obsessed freak!" Romano interrupted angrily, cutting America off. "We know!"

"Veeee~don't fight, nii-chan!" Italy intervened, wrapping his arms loosely around his brother as if that would effectively restrain him.

"Veneciano, get off me!"

"Everyone, stop fooling around!" Germany ordered, trying to concentrate on the matter at hand. "This could be serious. America, let's go."

"Of course!" the blond agreed ecstatically, bounding off in the direction of their home. "The hero always leads the way!"

"Shut the hell up!"

"Oi, Romano…That's not cute." Spain reprimanded, ruffling the younger chibi's hair.

"Stop touching me, dammit!" Romano dodged out of the tomato-lover's reach.

"Sssssshhhhhh!" America held a finger to his lips. "We're there, everyone. Quiet…" he whispered not caring how out of character actually doing so would make him seem.

Surprisingly, everyone fell silent, gazing out at their home from behind the cove of the surrounding trees. Night had more or less fallen by this point, and sure enough, the windows were glowing brightly within the darkness.

"Someone should go in," France suggested, a sleepy Greece nodding his agreement.

"You're always saying how you're the hero, America," Romano hissed from where he had decided to hide behind Spain. "You go in first!"

"But, I—!" America glanced between the house and the other chibis, clearly not wanting to be the first to investigate, but just as resolutely unwilling to put his title as self-proclaimed hero at stake.

"Be quiet, all of you!" Germany demanded strictly, glaring over at the squabbling duo from where he was trying to calm a distraught Italy. "I'll take care of this."

That said, the tallest chibi deposited a frantic Italy next to his equally fearful brother, before making his way into the dinky little cottage they called home. With his hand on the doorknob, Germany took a deep breath, steeling himself against the danger he might find inside. He turned it, pushing the door open cautiously…

To find nothing. But nothing, in and of itself, was unnerving. Not only had the lights apparently turned themselves on of their own free will, but the dirt and grime that usually adorned the majority of their home in excess was gone. _Gone_. By itself. Erie, though not particularly threatening. In fact, the change was rather welcome—Germany always hated living in all this filth, but with work and all, he hadn't had the time to clean.

Shaking his head free of such thoughts, Germany took a last thorough look around, before cautiously heading up the mutilated staircase (It wasn't _his_ fault France saw it fit to molest Italy on a regular basis, or that said chibi always happened to collide with the staircase when thrown).

Germany eased the door open, just enough to fit his head through and cast a small stream of light. Three of the beds had been pushed together, and there was a small lump in their midst. Someone was in there.

Bracing himself, Germany straightened to his full (although, admittedly not very intimidating) height, before throwing open the door completely. The loud thud of it connecting sharply with the wall startled whoever was on the beds awake.

It appeared to be an effeminate young man, with hair black as midnight and pale skin. He looked thoroughly awake, despite the fact he had been sleeping mere moments previously, if not rather panicked, his dark eyes wide with shock. The appearance rang a faint bell in the chibi's head, but he couldn't call to mind exactly why it should.

"Who are you?" Germany asked, softening his voice when he realized the stranger was of no immediate threat.

The boy stared back at him, expression morphing into something like…delight? "Everyone back at my home calls me Snow White, but my actual name is Japan."

_Snow White, of course_. Germany mentally scolded himself. "The others are waiting outside…I'll be back shortly."

And with that, the chibi left, leaving Japan alone to ponder the recent events. He was alone in a strange cottage in the middle of the woods, that was apparently inhabited by…chibis? Japan internally squee-d to himself. _So cute!_

Deciding that "the others" would soon arrive, Japan got out of bed, straightening the sheets and making sure everything was in place, before heading downstairs. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to make himself as presentable as possible, though there wasn't much he could do about his ruined dress.

No sooner had he stepped off the last stair then the front door flew open with a bang, a single figure darting inside.

"See, there's nothing to be afraid of Italy!" a bespectacled blond announced, after looking over the room's content thoroughly. "Just…Snow White, was it?"

"Y-yes," the prince confirmed, watching as the rest of the chibis stumbled in through the doorway. It was a good thing they were small, otherwise this house would be rather crowded. "But you can call me Japan."

"Veeee~ I'm Dopey," a brunette piped up from where he had attached himself to another brunette's arm. "But you can also call me Italy!" He nudged the chibi next to him with his head. "Veeee…nii-chan, introduce yourself."

Said chibi pouted, glaring at his brother. "I'm…Grumpy. But don't call me that! It's just some idiotic name this lot came up with. My real name's Romano."

"I'm Hero!" the blond from before introduced, before being hit over the head by Romano.

"You're Sneezy, idiot," Romano corrected. "If I get stuck with a dumb nickname, you have to put up with yours as well!"

"But that doesn't make any sense! I don't sneeze that…ah…aahhh…"

* * *

Somewhere, far far away, England muttered to himself in exasperation as he continued wandering around, now thoroughly lost. "America, you idiot…this is entirely your fault! Somehow…"

* * *

"AHCOO!" The protesting chibi was cut off by his own sneeze, successfully propelling himself into another blond similar in appearance to the first.

"Maple!" the other exclaimed, oddly, when his look-alike hit into him. After picking himself up, he smiled kindly at Japan. "I-I'm Bashful. I'm also called"—the first blond yelped as an angered Romano hit him once again, after insisting once again that his name really was 'Hero'—"but no one ever remembers that…"

"Just call me America," the other blond interrupted, clutching his battered skull. "Bashful and I are twins…even though we're nothing alike."

"I'm Doc," the tall blond who had woken Japan introduced himself. "But…I am often referred to as Germany."

Japan nodded politely, desperately trying to commit all this information to memory. He was interrupted by a small arm around his waist, and a voice from somewhere near his chest. "_Bonjour, mon cher_. I am France."

"A-ah…h-hi," Japan blushed vigorously, squirming out of the chibi's grasp.

"As the hero, I will protect you from Pervy!" America assured, frowning at France, as he placed himself heroically between the two. "That's his other name, by the way: Pervy. For obvious reasons."

"Such uncultured fools!" France cried, obviously offended. "To give me such a vulgar name…I am not a pervert!"

"Like hell you aren't!" Romano asserted, freeing himself of his younger brother only to hit into one of the two remaining nameless chibis.

"Romano, you really should watch where you're going," Spain scolded playfully, smiling widely and squealing in delight when the older Italian brother colored a vibrant red. "You look just like a little tomato! So cute!!!"

"Just introduce yourself already, bastard," Romano complained, struggling to fight his way out of the sudden glomp-like embrace he found himself in.

"Oh, I'm Happy!" Spain clarified, turning to look at Japan without releasing Romano. "I'm also known as Spain."

"And that's Greece," America proclaimed, pointing at the remaining chibi who had fallen asleep against the wall. "His name is Sleepy…again, for obvious reasons."

"It's nice to meet you all," Japan bowed politely. "Would it be all right if I stay for a little while? My evil soon-to-be stepsister is set on marrying my fiancé, her brother…and as I'm an obstacle to that goal she's currently trying to dispose of me. I don't really have anywhere else to stay—"

"Of course you can stay!" Italy assured, leaping up to try and glomp Japan, but having the surprising common sense to let go before he knocked the boy over backward.

"T-thank you very much!" Japan replied gratefully, rubbing at his neck.

"Veeeeeee~ I'm hungry," Italy whined, before suddenly perking up. "Hey, Japan! Can you make pasta?"

Japan nodded.

"Yaaaaaaay! Let's make pasta then." Italy clapped his hands together happily, before running over to the cabinets to get ingredients.

"Um…shouldn't you wash your hands first?" Japan began hesitantly.

"Mm…I guess." Some of the Italian's enthusiasm evaporated. Everyone else seemed to be of a like mind.

"Come on," Germany chided, picking Italy up by the shoulders and facing him towards the doors. He gave him a gentle shove.

Canada obediently followed suit, everyone else joining the two more or less willingly. Except for a resistant Romano that had to be dragged, literally, while kicking and screaming, by an unrelenting Germany. Japan just shook his head and began putting together dinner.

* * *


	7. Chapter 6

"Alright! Everyone get a space near the trough!" Germany commanded. "Now, Italy, get the soap."

"Veeeee, where's the soap?"

"I'll help you find it, _mon amour_," France offered, winking at the younger Italian.

"Absolutely not!" Germany yelled yanking France back to the trough.

"But he will get lost if I don't go with him!" the perverted blond insisted, struggling to pull away.

"I'll go get the soap since I'm the hero!" America chimed in.

"Shut the hell up!"

After about 10 minutes of squabbling, Germany had to get the soap himself, but was met with another headache when he returned. Apparently America had boasted about his ability to hold his breath underwater or something of the like for Romano was attempting to force his head under the water.

"Romano, let go of America!" he shouted.

"But I'm right here." America replied at Germany's side.

"…Romano, let go of Bashful!" the tallest blond corrected.

"Ah, _mon cheri_, you look wonderful when your hair is in front of your eyes! It gives you a most intriguing...what was that word America said? "Emo" look?" France complimented, sidling up to the soaked twin.

"Bashful, I will protect you because I am the hero!" America surged forward, pushing France away.

"But, America," Spain started. "Why didn't you protect Italy?"

"Because Germany could kick the crap out of France much faster than I could," was his response, completely ignoring a very embarrassed looking Germany.

"Veeeee, Germany always helps me out of a pinch, we're best friends!" Italy agreed, hugging the already blushing blond.

"He's just trying to take advantage of you!" the Italian's brother accused, jabbing a finger in the German's direction.

"Aw, Romano are you lonely? You need a hug, too!" Spain happily pronounced, wrapping his arms around the older Italian.

"Get off me dammit!" Romano started struggling, flinging water from his hands in all directions; some landed on the sleeping Greece.

"What's going on?" he asked rubbing his eyes. But no one paid him any heed, Romano trying to escape from an enthusiastic Spain, and France badgering a rather red-faced Canada, albeit being constantly interrupted by a "heroic" America.

Germany twitched. And then twitched again for good measure. "All of you, settle down, right now!" He demanded in his most authoritative tone.

Surprisingly, everyone one froze, sans Greece who had fallen back to sleep. "Just put the soap on your hands and rub them together."

"Like this?" Italy mimicked cutely, somehow ending up with spare soap suds on the tip of his nose.

"Y-yes." Germany, blushing furiously, glanced away.

After about another ten minutes they all finally got their hands clean, except for Canada who had been soaked after Romano attempted (and nearly succeeded) to drown him—the Italian had apologized profusely, if not rather sullenly, at Spain's insistence.

"There you all are!" Japan exclaimed exasperated. "How long does it take to wash your hands!? I already finished making the pasta."

"Pasta!!!" Italy cheered, rushing towards the table.

"Wait until everybody's seated, that's the proper protocol." Germany insisted, although his advice went unheated

"The Hero should be served first!" America chimed in, running after the Italian.

"Shut up!"

"Ah! Romano, you look just like a tomato when you yell. So cute!" Spain cooed.

"Get off and stop patting my head!"

Surprisingly dinner went without incident, aside from France having to save Greece from falling face first into his pasta, and America having to save Greece from France.

"Veee, Japan, we should have a party!" Italy suggested excitedly.

"Um, that would be fun…" Canada whispered shyly

"I'll get the streamers, and a piñata, and a Christmas tree!" America declared, throwing a fist up in the air.

"Christmas trees are for freaking Christmas you idiot!"

"But…but I like Christmas trees," America whined, expression falling to a dejected pout.

"Forget about the Christmas trees, we need mistletoe for l'amour, don't you think so Italy?" Pervy put in, sidling towards the Italian.

Germany responded by quickly stepping in front of Italy and glaring daggers at France, then at the stairs, causing him to back down very quickly.

"Um, isn't Christmas a while away?" asked Japan, a bit perplexed.

"Yes, but it would be fun and we want to celebrate your arrival!" Spain explained "Romano, you can help me pick out the decorations!"

"Like hell!"

However, Romano didn't have much say in the matter. Oblivious to the threats and insults, Spain dragged the poor chibi off to find ornaments for the tree, which America volunteered enthusiastically to cut down.

Japan smiled at the overall silliness, and the cuteness overload, considering all involved were chibis. This would definitely be a fun event, despite the inevitable chaos.


	8. Chapter 7

**Hey guys! Sorry this took so long to get up ^^; I've been really busy, as has...my friend...whatever she's calling herself at the moment. I forget. Anywho, here's the chapter. Not sure how the Sweden-speak turned out...never written him before. Enjoy!**

* * *

Lithuania wasn't able to keep his mind straight at all. After all these years, all these fruitless years of pursuing Belarus and heeding her every wish and command (albeit, very few, and far between), something had finally come of it. He was on a date with her. Alone together. Just the two of them. He couldn't believe his fortune.

But it made him sick when he thought of what it had come of. At least the prince had gotten out alive, but that poor little pig…

~The Previous Day~

A solitary wild pig strode among the foliage, watched by a man with shoulder-length brown hair. The watcher tried to keep his breath shallow, and his hand stead, although his knees trembled and his palms were wet with perspiration. He couldn't do this, couldn't kill an innocent animal, even if it was to save his own skin, and possibly even the prince's.

The creature trotted over to him, wriggling its nose in quite an adorable manner, its tiny tail wiggling in symphony. He dropped the knife and buried his face in his hands. "I can't do this! It's…it's…I can't…"

_Thwack!_ The sound of a wepon impaling soft flesh rung throughout the clearing, and Lithuania glanced up in shock to see the poor little creature, the handle of a knife sticking straight out of the pig's throat.

The brunette made a noise of horror, dropping to his knees beside the poor animal. "Who did this…?" he wondered aloud, surveying the surrounding area with sudden alarm. What if there was some pig-murdering villain on the loose, who went after humans in his spare time?

As if on cue, a tall shadowy figure emerged from the forest. Lithuania had no time to react before he took several steps closer, the sunlight revealing his identity, as…

Sweden.

A surge of relief coursed through the shorter man, before his previous dismay returned. The poor little animal.

"Y'were tryn t' kill it, r'ght?" The man mumbled.

Lithuania most likely would not have been able to understand even if he were paying attention, but as it was, he was still staring at the fallen pig with an expression of dumfounded sadness.

Sweden walked over and knelt next to the frozen male, reaching forward to with draw the knife. He raised his arm up, as if preparing to attack, and Lithuania flinched away in terror.

_Thud!_ Followed by squishing, terribly wet sounding noises that Lithuania really didn't want to identify. He kept resolutely turned away, afraid of what he might see should he look back at the creature.

_Splosh!_ A squishy, wet, _warm_ object landed in his left hand. He could feel liquid oozing off of it, the arising stench making it's identification as blood indubitable. The revulsion welled in Lithuania, and he tried to keep from vomiting.

Filled with trepidation, he slowly turned his head, looking down at the mass, his fears confirmed. A heart. A real (live?) pig heart.

But he had needed the heart, hadn't he? Wordlessly, he got to his feet and ran out of the clearing, eager to find the box and deposit the revolting _thing_ in it.

Sweden blinked, staring after the figure, rather affronted. "J's tryn t' h'lp…"

~Back to the Present~

Lithuania shook his head, trying to forget the whole unpleasant event. He was on a date with Belarus now, his life-long crush. The pig was dead, and ruining his date with Belarus would do nothing to revive it.

"So, Belarus, I…" she looked up from her meal, fixing him with an icy glare. He continued on, determined to strike up conversation. "How is everything?"

A moment elapsed, before she answered him coldly, "It would be better if _Nii-san_ were here."

"I-I see," Lithuania replied, trying to keep on a bright smile, though he could feel the corners of his mouth shaking. How such a cute girl could be so terrifying, he would never know.

"You look very lovely tonight, Bela-chan," Lithuania commented, only to have his hand violently seized. A sickening crack filled the restaurant, the other costumers glancing over in concerned interest, the waiter jerking away from the other table he was serving, spilling wine all over the place.

Lithuania merely continued on, seemingly oblivious, or at the most, undeterred by his now broken fingers. "But you always look lovely. You're the cutest girl I've ever met. And you're independent and smart. Russia doesn't-" Another crack (Broken hand) "-know what he's missing."

From the cover of some nearby potted plants, Poland felt his stomach churn, before rage took over. Lithuania was his friend, and Belarus had no right to do this too him. It was, like, totally not cool. Seriously.

He needed a plan. A plan to get Lithuania away from the sadistic girl. But what…?

A metaphorical light bulb lit over Poland's head, before fizzling out. He would need to ask Lithuania's help later in replacing that.

"Like, how is everything?" Lithuania was snapped out of his love struck stupor by the familiar voice, although the pitch was raised a bit.

Before him stood none other than Poland, his hair pulled up into a high ponytail, ridiculously large earrings hung on either side of his overly make-up adorned face. He was dressed in one of the restaurant's waitress uniforms, to complete the ensemble.

"Poland, what are you doing?" inquired Belarus in a rather annoyed, albeit strangely curious, while somehow still monotone, voice.

"Who is this 'Poland' you, like, speak of?" Poland inquired, feigning ignorance, complete with air-quotes.

Belarus fixed him with her best glare. "I'm not an idiot. Get out of here, you stupid fag."

"I'll, like, have you know," Poland thrust out his falsely stuffed chest. "That I am, like, totally 100% female. Like, super cereal." The other diners turned to watch.

"In your mind, I don't doubt it," Belarus replied sharply. Poland bristled.

"Well, like, excuse me, miss, but what, like, crawled up your ass and died?" Poland crossed his arms indignantly.

"Poland, don't—" Lithuania began, seeing the dangerous glint in the Belarus's eyes, and trying to persevere his friend's life.

"Don't, like, 'Poland' me!" the cross-dresser countered.

"But that's your name, what else am I supposed to—"

"Lithuania, we're leaving." Belarus tightened her already crushing grip on the brunette's hand, before dragging him bodily out of the place.

"Yeah, walk away!" Poland shouted after them, all eyes on him now. "I know you just, like, don't have the backbone to face me, you biotch!"

Plan: Separate Lithuania from Belarus.

Failed.


	9. Chapter 8

**Not written by me, I just edited this one, but my friend had no comments to make. I apologize for the wait. Hopefully it won't be so long again. If we still have any readers, you guys are wonderful for waiting ^^ And please excuse the over use of line breaks...**

* * *

"I don't see why we're picking out a tree, its not even Christmas!" huffed a very irritated Romano.

"Because it's fun and we're celebrating Snow White's arrival," replied the seemingly ever happy Spain. "Ooh! That one looks good, doesn't it Romano?"

"Che, whatever…" Romano frowned, crossing his arms, as Antonio scurried over to the tree in question. An especially elated grin on his face, his green eyes lit up with…

Romano shook his head, and trailed reluctantly after the Spaniard.

* * *

"But we need mistletoe!" insisted France, interrupting the party plans for the ninth time.

"Ve, what do you do with it?" Italy questioned, tilting his head to one side cutely.

"Well you do things with someone you like, so _Italie_ …" France leant in closer, a mischievous grin creasing his lips. "_Est-ce tu m'aimes?_"

Italy never got to respond due to a very angry Germany once again throwing France into the stairs.

"No mistletoe!" was the answer of the currently seething Germany.

"We need to put up lots and lots of streamers!" America exclaimed, pumping his fist energetically. "Ok, Greece will be in charge of making sure I don't fall while I'm putting them up, because falling is not what a hero does."

Very faintly a "Shut up!" was heard from outside amidst a sawing noise.

Bashful timidly raised his hand as if he were in school, "U-um I-I think w-we should-"

"All right! Now for the Christmas table clothes…" America scanned the room, before his eyes alighted on something. "Ah-ha, Bashful! You get them from the closet."

Bashful sighed to himself, before complying with the rude request.

"Greece, are you even paying attention?" America questioned, looking down at his supposed 'back-up'. "Hey don't lean on the stool, you'll knock it ov-AAGHH!"

He fell in a flurry of waving arms landing in a heap, before promptly jumping up, ignoring the fact that he was still tangled in streamers from head to foot. "Ha ha ha! That didn't even hurt because I am the hero!"

Once again a faint voice was heard from the outdoors, this time a bit strained as if it was pulling something heavy. "Bastard! How many times do I have to tell you to shut—stop touching me, dammit!"

"But your face is so red like a tomato…" Spain cooed. "It's adorable!"

Bashful sweat-dropped, as he seemed to be the only one hearing this. "U-um, America, d-don't you think t-that we should-"

"Alright, forget the streamers, we'll just get a giant robot to do this for us!" the older blond announced, throwing his arm upwards in a heroic pose.

"B-but America, t-that's n-not p-p-possible," Canada tried to rationalize, but once again was paid no attention.

Germany took the opportunity to walk over to see just what all the ruckus was about.

"Sneezy, why are you covered in streamers? And why is Greece asleep on the floor?"

"I told you, my names not 'Sneezy'!" America began indignantly. "I don't even sneeze that m-"

* * *

-Meanwhile-

* * *

Prince England was currently at a tavern, attempting to "solve" his problems, by way of explaining his situation to the bartender. Not that said bartender was listening; not that it mattered. The blond was far beyond noticing at this point.

"I was supposed to –hic- go on a date, with the most beautiful –hic- boy I've ever seen. But then! Then he decides to go missing right before we're supposed to –hic hic- leave. I've been through swamps, forests, -hic- _rivers_, and uncountable salesman trying to get me to buy god –hic- knows what! They –hic- even followed me for awhile –hic hic- why don't they just leave me alone? Leave me alone like everyone else…"

By now tears were streaming down Prince England's face. "This is all America's fault, I know it is! Stupid, stupid, stupid! America, you prat!"

* * *

-Back to the chibi house-

* * *

"Ah-CHOO!" America lifted half a foot off the ground with the power off the nasal explosion.

"G'bleshoo," mumbled a sleepy Greece, awoken by the commotion.

"W-well, s-someone could be i-insulting America?" Bashful suggested, but was again ignored.

"Just get back to work without destroying the house," Germany sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"All right, bashful, get the confetti from the closet!" America ordered, back to his exuberant self.

"B-but America, Germany said after I-Italy's birthday t-that we a-aren't a-allowed t-to use i-it anymore…" Bashful tried to protest, recalling what had happened the last time…

* * *

"_Greece! You have to cough that up!" Canada exclaimed, attempting to shake the older chibi awake. He had fallen asleep with his face on the floor, and had accidentally inhaled some of the stray confetti. _

"_Dammit, you bastards, why is this stuff so freaking hard to throw!" Romano shouted in irritation, as he tried to chuck handfuls at America and Spain. The two only laughed together, twin smiles of idiocy and elation on their faces._

"_Heroes aren't affected by confetti!" America proclaimed, earning a chuckle from Spain, when Romano's face reddened. _

"_You look like a little—"_

"_Ger-Germanyyyyy!!!" Italy cried, as he suddenly lost his footing, the colorful glitter pieces once again to blame. _

"_I'll catch you, _mon chéri_!" France offered 'gallantly' rushing over to catch the falling Italian…_

_Only to be shoved in the face by Germany, the taller blond multi-tasking as he intercepted Italy's fall. _

"_Veee…Germany," all the terror went out of the smaller chibi as he gratefully wrapped his arms around the German. "_Grazie! Molto grazie!_"_

"_Hands off my brother, dammit!" Romano yelled, jumping to his feet, futile one-sided confetti fight forgotten._

"_Ve, _fratello_, don't..."

* * *

_

"But this is a special occasion!" America reasoned, interrupting his brother's flashback. His tone softening in reassurance, when he for once took notice of the atmosphere, and the younger chibi's distress. "I think Germany would understand."

"But…fine," Bashful submitted slowly making his way to the closet, stepping over the brambles of streamers and Greece as if it were second nature.

* * *

Japan waited in the kitchen listening to the various shouts, crashes, and occasional sneeze that filtered through the walls.

'_Well, if they're taking care of the decorating, then I should start preparing some snacks I guess…_'

It was then that Japan heard America shout out a bet with Romano: that he could get Japan to do the Mexican hat dance. The prince(ss) blanched and continued making the food, praying to whatever god there was that he would not be forced to perform such an uncomely action. If England saw him doing that he'd be mortified!

Japan's face heated up at the thought. Wait, had he just been concerned about England's opinion? He most certainly wanted to impress the nice, friendly, charming, handsome-

The prince's fair face turned even redder if it were possible, and he shook his head trying to physically remove the notion from his head.

"Oh my, what is happening to me?" he whispered to himself while looking over the food.


	10. Chapter 9

**Okay, guys, here's another one ^^ Longer than the last, and quicker, so I hope it makes up for all the waits. I wanted to most it a bit later, but my friend said to post it now. Hope you like it!**

**

* * *

**

"Veee, there you are Japan!" Italy smiled, rushing towards Japan, and making as if to drag him.

"Italy-kun, the food!" Japan warned in time, diverting the overly eager Italian.

"Oh..." Italy hummed, expression falling before a smile of inspiration once again lit his face. "I'll help you carry those!" He proclaimed, before taking one of the platters.

"Italy-kun, I don't…" Japan had only known the chibi for a few days, but already he was aware of how clumsy the other could be. But not being one to bring up such a potentially offensive topic, Japan could only cringe and follow as the Italian made his way to the newly decorated table, wincing every time the platter tilted.

Miraculously, Italy was able to set the tray down without incident.

Ironically, Japan was the one to trip, over his own foot no less. Or so it had seemed.

"Ahh!" Bashful yelped as the Asian hit into him, toppling over backwards. The other fell over likewise, the contents of the trays splattering over the two of them. "I'm so sorry!"

"I apologize!" Japan hastened at the same time, sitting up, and trying to help the other up, only to receive similar treatment. "It's my fault."

"No, it's mine I…" Bashful insisted, taking a napkin from the nearby table and beginning to mop the mess off the other's clothing.

"I insist, I…" Japan tried to do the same, but instead ended up wiping the floor, shortly join by the chibi.

"No, no, it's really my…" Bashful crouched down scooping up some of the ruined food.

"It's both of your faults!" Romano cut in irritably, having returned from tree hunting with Spain.

"Oh dear…" Bashful straightened, looking over Japan's food splattered clothes. "Come with me, I-I have some clothes you can borrow."

Japan looked after the chibi's diminutive form, nonplussed, but followed him anyway. It was the polite thing to do, after all, and Japan was anything but impolite.

When they finally reached the bedroom, Bashful went over to the closet, pulling open the doors to beginning shifting through items. A stretch of silence passed, before the chibi pulled out a neatly folded stack of clothes. "These should do," he began to unfold the garments.

"Uh…Bashful-san, I don't think…" Japan began to protest, trying to find a courteous way to refuse. But then his eyes fell revealed clothing. It was normal size, human size. How peculiar.

"They might actually be a bit big on you," Bashful mumbled to himself, more than their guest. "I was a little taller than you back when…back when…" He trailed off, expression glum.

"Back when what?" Japan prompted, before catching himself. He flushed. "Ah…pardon me, Bashful-san…if it's not too forward of me, I—"

"It's fine," the chibi smiled, though the smile on his face was faltering. A moment passed before he continued. "Alfred and I…used to be human. A few years ago, this crazy girl—Belareth? I don't quite remember—turned me into a chibi, thinking I was my brother. Then, realizing her mistake, she went after my brother once again, and changed him too. We've been stuck like this ever since."

"Belarus," Japan realized with a start, pallor seeping into his skin as he thought of his deranged almost step sister.

"Yes! That's it," Bashful smiled. "I hate not being able to remember other people's names, because no one ever remembers mine so I know how it feels and…are you feeling all right?"

"Y-yes," Japan assured, letting a smile plaster itself over his features.

"Okay," Bashful hedged, not wanting to intrude, but knowing something was amiss. "I'll let you get changed." He left the room, reluctantly going back into the chaos he knew would be awaiting him.

Japan quickly slipped out of his dress (he'd become quite used to the unwieldy garments throughout his life) before slipping his legs into the pants. Bashful had been right, they were a little long, but no more than a few inches—nothing that would inhibit his movement. Next came the shirt, a little baggy, but comfortable and clean. Japan couldn't remember the last time he'd worn such plain, _masculine_ clothes.

There was a mirror on the door of the closet, dirty as everything had been in this house. Japan looked over himself, the simple, slightly large clothes so different from the elaborate dresses he usually wore. His hair was a mess, and he was in need of a good long bath. Small scrapes marred the pale skin of his bare feet, having removed the torn stockings.

Running his hands as best he could through his hair, to make it presentable, and wiping the obvious smudges of dirt from his skin, the boy made his way back downstairs to the party. Life was not so bad here, amidst the chibis. They might be perverted, and conceited, and grumpy…but they were just so _cute_!

* * *

"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the cutest of them all?" Belarus recited the all so familiar rhyme.

"I told you, you can just ask me normally!" China returned, obviously miffed. But at a threatening glance from the girl, he quickly conceded. "Shinatty still has you both beat, aru…but away within the forest, Snow White remains the cuter between you."

"...!" Belarus clenched her fists, fuming through gritted teeth, "What do you mean, Snow White? I had him disposed of. Lithuania brought me back his heart to prove so!"

"Relax!" China chided, frowning. "Remember what I said about the PMS-ing, aru? Not cute."

"I don't care!" the girl shouted, exasperated. "Just tell me what's going on. Surely, you must be misled?"

"I am not," the mirror returned, matter-of-factly, wrinkling his nose. "That heart you were given was a pig's heart. It stinks, aru! Can't you tell the difference?"

"What…?" Belarus glowered, moving over to the box, and looking inside. The severed organ lay desolately in the corner, a pool of coagulated blood surrounding it. She leaned in, taking a whiff, before wrinkling her own nose. "That's just because it's rotting!" She justified, slamming the lid shut. "Lithuania wouldn't lie to me."

"Are you sure, aru?" China mused disinterestedly.

"Of course I'm sure, I…" and she was out of the room, heeled shoes clacking loudly against the stone as she stormed down the halls. "Lithuaniaaaaaaaa!!!"

"Oh dear…" China's heart fell, as he realized what was about to happen to the poor servant. Belarus had no sympathy on matters related even remotely to her brother.

"Lithuaniaaaaaa!" Russia recognized the screeching voice immediately, dodging into a hidden crevice away from his sister.

It was then he realized something strange. She wasn't screaming his name, but _Lithuania's_. The poor guy…he wondered what he'd done to deserve this. Belarus sounded really upset…

In a sudden moment of courage—and stupidity—Russia ran to intercept his sister in her mad rampage.

"Brother?" she questioned, confusion dimming her anger momentarily when his hand latched onto her shoulder.

"What did Lithuania do?" the purple-eyed one questioned, both curious and afraid of the answer. Or just afraid of Belarus in general…it was hard to distinguish.

"He didn't ki—" she faltered, having caught herself, but not sure of how to continue. Her brother, while not particularly attached to Snow White, would not be pleased with her assassination order. Not at all. Furiously, she worked for an alternative scenario…

"He didn't kill Snow White, daze~!" a cheerful voice cut in, causing the princess to blanch. Korea was going to be so dead…

"...what?" Russia replied intelligently, perplexed. "Why would Lithuania do that? And why would sister…?"

"She ordered him to!" Korea explained, before yelping as the girl leapt at him, clawing at his face. "Aaaaaahhh! Stop it! I was just answering his question!"

"Sister, is that true..?" Russia inquired, tone a mixture of dismay and hurt.

There was only one thing that could stop Belarus on a killing rampage, and that was her brother. She paused, nails poised to take the unfortunate Asian's eye out. "Brother, I…"

"He's my finance," Russia stated, tone caught between it's usually fear in such company and something else, form tensing. "I might not have loved him, but I cared about him and you tried to have him _killed_?"

"Brother, he wanted to take you away from me, he…" Belarus tried to reason, but she caught sight of the look in Russia's eyes.

"I thought I told you not to touch my things!" Russia cried, tears leaking out of his eyes. "You promised you wouldn't hurt him…just like you promised you wouldn't do anything to America-kun…"

"Brother, I—" Belarus tried to explain, but Russia would have none of it.

"I-I hate you!" he shouted, before tearing off down the hallway.

"Brother!" the girl shouted, chasing after her sibling. All thoughts of Lithuania and how she was going to punish him were gone form her mind, replaced with the need to get Russia's forgiveness, a task she knew would be none too easy.

* * *

Russia locked his door and sat on the edge of his bed. Crying was so out of character for him. He usually covered his pain with a smile, a smile that seemed to scare most people, though he didn't know why. But when it came to America….

He got up and slowly walked over to his closet, pulling out a thick material from the back. It was a little worn, but well cared for and looked like it had been dusted regularly, despite being hidden for so long.

"Alfred," he whispered softly hugging the jacket close to him, crying silently into the brown material. It was of some comfort that it still held Alfred's scent: a mixture of fried food and something else, a warm scent that reminded Russia of the sunflowers he loved so much. He looked out the window and gave a small smile. America was incredibly hard to get rid of, the only reason Russia even went out with him on their first date.

He knew that he was still out there, and hoped that, maybe someday, he would come back, despite all Belarus had put him through, and would no doubt put him through again. When he disappeared those years ago, Russia had realized how much the blond had meant to him, how much he missed his bright smile and passionate eyes. Russia knew he would never love anyone more than he loved Alfred, and so he would wait here, until the self-proclaimed hero decided to return.

And Snow White. Russia had been opposed to the idea of marriage all along, but he would never have wished death on the Asian. He had been kind and comforting when America had vanished one day, no doubt of Belarus's doing. Japan was not America, and Russia had never to this day felt a hint of anything romantic towards his fiancé. But he had been a good friend, despite his obvious fear of the Russian. And for that, Russia was grateful, and hoped that wherever the prince had ended up, he was happy. Just as he hoped America was.

* * *

ArisaLyeanna**: Well, all stories have to be in-progress before than can be complete, unless they're one shots. Perhaps you're just catching them at a bad time? ^^' Thank you very much for the review! Glad you're enjoying it.**


	11. Chapter 10

Belarus paced frantically in her lab, searching her mind for any way to earn Russia's forgiveness.

"Oh, what should I do? Chocolates? Flowers? I don't know!" She cried in despair, burying her face in her hands.

"Why don't you try leaving him alone aru? I think he needs his space," replied the ever-wise magic mirror.

"Do you really think it would work?"

"Of course aru. He's always trying to get away from you anyway," China mumbled under his breath, careful not to let Belarus hear.

She frowned and sighed. "Fine, if it will make brother less angry, then I will stay away from him, but then what will I do with my day?"

"Work on a way to stop Yong Soo from getting in here and bothering me aru?"

"He knows of this place!"

"He's known for years, and he wont leave me alone aru! Every time it's 'mirrors originated in Korea!' And 'Your breasts belong to me' aru!"

Belarus huffed and pulled out a sheet of paper. "What did you have in mind?"

Russia was currently on his way to the castle garden. They had the most beautiful sunflowers there. When he reached his destination he smiled and bent over slightly to admire the flowers more closely. The small smile that had found its way onto his face instantly faded as realization dawned upon him. He was alone, and easy prey for someone who would wish to say, follow him. Everywhere. He frantically looked around, wishing he were part owl, searching for the platinum blonde in the blanket of plant life. Slowly, as if hearing a noise in a horror movie, he looked at the forest of sunflowers, which were easily taller than his sister. Letting out an unmanly squeak, he ran away like a frightened Italian.

* * *

At lunchtime Russia wandered into the dining room, and noticed that his sister was not at the table waiting for him. Timidly he called out for her.

"Belarus? Belarus, where are you?"

He checked under the table, behind him, even looked up at the chandelier and found nothing. Just then he heard a clanking noise. Whipping around, he saw nothing but the suits of armor that decorated the room.

"She wouldn't, would she? No, she wouldn't hide in there, it would ruin her dress."

But to Russia's horror, a suit started moving its arm. He shrieked and lit out, nearly leaving a dust trail behind, or he would have if Austria didn't insist on the castle being practically sterilized everyday.

Hearing the scream of terror, the captain of the guard ran in to follow his sworn duty and protect whoever was in trouble. He burst through the door opposite the one Russia had fled through to find…no one. Wait, scratch that he found a walking suit of armor.

"Hong Kong, get out of there" he demanded with a no-nonsense tone.

"Oh, hello, Vash, how are you today?"

"I told you, it's Captain Zwigli."

"Can I call you Switzerland?"

"No."

"Why not? Your guards call you that."

"You're not one of my guards, now get out of there or I'll lock you in the gate house again."

"Will you keep me company?" Hong Kong asked, never minding the punishment, because he always had the captain to converse with.

Switzerland pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed exasperatedly. He really didn't have another choice. That boy had a knack for getting out of anything.

"Come on…no, not while you're still in the suit! That's better! Let's go."

* * *

"Ok aru, what have we got so far?"

"When Yong Soo opens the door, it will pull the string, releasing the lab mice from their cage behind him creating a distraction while simultaneously propelling him forward, while the _other_ string attached to the door has already tipped the bucket filled with olive oil in front of him, and when the bucket tips it will pull a third string, pulling the switch of a highly powered fan, so while he's on the oil, the wind will push him back, while we have Shinatty close the door…Wait, Shinatty?"

"Well this plan is ridiculous already, so I saw no harm in adding him in, aru."

"How did you even write it down? You don't have hands."

"I suggested it when you had half your mind occupied on worrying over your brother, aru."

"Oh. Now where should we put the guanacos?"

"After the oil spills, but before the fan goes on aru."

Russia peeked around the corner before making his way through the corridor like someone who got trapped in a "Predator" movie. He hadn't seen Belarus all day, and it was freaking him out! She was undoubtedly planning something, but he could not figure it out. He had been fretting all day, looking around 360 degrees every couple minutes or so, asking servants if Belarus happened to pass by (not that this was unusual, it was just for a slightly different reason this time), and ducking into random rooms at the smallest sounds. All this got him was extreme muscle tension and a mental scar. He really didn't need to see Poland convincing (forcing) Lithuania to wearing a maid outfit...

"_But Poland, I don't like wearing dresses!"_

"_Like, come on! It's my latest design and no one else will, like, try it for me!"_

"_Can't you put it on a mannequin?"_

"_Mannequins have, like, women figures. This is for Japan, so I totally need a guy to model it."_

"_But he's the prince, why did you make a maid outfit?"_

_"Because," Poland said rolling his eyes, "the people in his manga wear them, and he'd totally look super adorable in it! Now like, don't forget the hat."_

Shaking the thought from his head, Russia looked at one of the many grandfather clocks, that the captain of the guard convinced the king were necessary to put all over the castle so everyone would be on time. It was already 5:00, where could she be? Since he was busy looking for Belarus in places that no one would expect to be ambushed from, he completely missed her walking out of the creepy looking door of her secret laboratory.

"Oh, hello, brother."

Russia snapped his head to the direction of Belarus' voice, paralyzed in terror.

"I didn't expect to see you around he-"

She never got to finish as Russia screamed and bolted away before she could so much as blink.

"Wait! Brother!"

But he was already gone. With her fists shaking in frustration, Belarus angrily made her way back down the stairs of the lab.

"This is all Japan's fault! If he weren't going to marry brother, then he would be mine! If Japan weren't around then everything would be perfect!"

She froze at that thought, letting a manic grin leak onto her face, marring the cute features that had gleaned so much praise.

"If Japan weren't around," she repeated. Hurrying her way down the rest of the stairs, she quickly approached the magic mirror. "China! Where is my book of spells?"

"Um, on the top shelf aru, why?"

"I have a plan."

Taking note of the grin, China decided it was better not to ask.


	12. Chapter 11

**Once again, apologies for the wait ^^ Much thanks to all of our reviewers! You guys are fantastic~**

* * *

"Oi! You, get up!"

England frowned, squirming away from the persistent nudging. "Charlie, come on…ten more minutes…"

Unfortunately, he was successful. Too successful. He managed to squirm his way off of the bar stool, and fell victim to a three foot fall, which was enough to wake anyone up. (Except for maybe a certain Grecian.)

Raucous laughter filled the ears of the now very awake prince. Very obnoxious laughter, truly. It made him want to punch the living daylights out of whoever the rude bastard was.

In fact he was just about to, but a sudden dagger of pain in his head impeded his efforts. _Ouch_. It had been along while since England had a hangover quite this bad. And even longer still since he'd awakened in a bar: he was royalty, usually his family had someone sent to pick him up. They couldn't just have their crown prince laying around in some godforsaken tavern. That wouldn't be good for their reputation. Not at all.

Deciding the pain had finally reached a somewhat tolerable level (he had had worse, _much _worse, just…not since he'd challenged his brother to a drinking match.), England cracked open his eyes. He was met with a very odd sight.

A dwarf. But no, it wasn't quite a dwarf. More like a midget, perhaps. England couldn't quite remember the distinction between the two in his current state. Or which was which. Though, this one didn't seem to quite be either. And this could all be some weird dream. England wouldn't put it past himself at this point.

The midget, dwarf, elf…whatever. The _thing_ was _still_ laughing uproariously. You'd think he'd never seen a person fall off a chair before, for a 'he' it most certainly was, whatever its species.

"For God's sake, put a sock in it!" England yelled, clutching his temples at the re-lash. "What in the bloody blazes is your problem? I fell off a damn stool…I fail to see what's so bleeding funny about that!"

The thing stopped then, giving the prince an impish smirk. His blood red eyes only accentuated the expression. "It never gets old…seeing idiots like you make fools of themselves."

"Pardon me?" England sat up fully, eyes narrowing in furious irritation. Hangovers put him in a bad enough mood as it was without having to deal with something like this. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

"A hung-over Brit without a sense of humour?" the other responded, before going into another bought of laughter at his own joke.

England's eyebrows twitched.

"Oh, whoa…I think those caterpillars on your face are awake."

And continued to twitch for good measure.

"Dude, seriously…you might want to have those looked at."

"Just…bugger off," England buried his head in his hands, groaning. "Don't you have anything better to do? A life or something?"

"I do, actually," the thing walked over, sitting down next to him. Standing up, the thing had been a foot or so taller than England sitting, on the floor. Now he had to look down considerably to see him. Not that he wanted to. Blasted prick. "I'm looking for West, my little brother. You haven't seen him, have you?"

" 'course not," the Prince mumbled into his hands. "How would I bleeding know?"

"He's a little taller than me…blond," a pause, presumably as the thing pondered a better description. "Looks like he has a stick shoved up his ass."

"…" England ventured a glance at the thing. "Can't say I have seen him."

"What's your story, then?" the thing inquired. "Unless you really are just a useless drunkard."

"I…am a prince," England announced, drawing himself up regally as best he could in his current state. The thing began laughing hysterically, and the glare from the prince only made him laugh harder. "If you wouldn't mind."

"Sorry," the thing managed to say, between fits of giggles. _How sincere…_

"I was supposed to have a date last night," England finished.

The thing nodded with a surprising amount of sympathy. "Got stood up? That blows."

"No, you don't…" England's breath hitched a little. It was definitely not because he was about to cry. He was not! "He…he wouldn't do that. I know he wouldn't."

"So…do you think there's kidnapping involved?" Was it just England, or did the thing's ears perk up a little at that? "We should join forces: accept! You should be grateful that I am bestowing my awesome aid upon you!"

"Hang on…" England tried his best to massage the headache away, to little avail. "Give me three good reasons why I should let you tag along with me."

"That's easy: without me, your search is doomed to failure. My awesome tracking skills are AWESOME!"

"I think that's a bit redundant—"

"Due to my awesome powers of investigation, I have a lead on my brother's location!"

"And how does that benefit—"

"AND…" the thing paused for dramatic effect, holding a finger up. "I can cook!"

"…"

"What do you have to say to that? Has my awesome argument left you speechless? Kesesesese…"

"Fine," England gave in, knowing he would dread this not too long from now. But the promise of good food was too good for him to ignore. "On one condition, you quiet down a little. This hangover is bleeding terrible." He groaned.

"Not to worry!" the thing leapt to its feet, rushing off into the kitchen, past the disgruntled (and rather flummoxed) bartender.

England looked at the doorway with a mixture of apprehension, curiosity, and relief. Sighing, he flopped back on the floor, determined to make the most of his few moments peace, not knowing how long it would last.

Much to his dismay, it lasted scarcely a few minutes. The thing came rushing back in, clutching a glass of…something. Whatever was in the container looked questionable at best.

"Drink this!" the thing commanded, thrusting the receptacle at the prince.

Catching a whiff of the substance, England blanched. "What on earth _is_ this?"

"Surefire cure for hangovers!" the thing elaborated enthusiastically. "Made by my awesome self!"

England prodded the substance dubiously. Prodded, because it was quite solid enough to be worthy of the action. It had the consistency of cold mud, and didn't look much tastier, with several…unidentifiable objects mixed into it. Every ounce of common sense was screaming as the Brit not to drink it.

But he had to rescue Snow White. He could be in mortal peril at this very second: the very thought caused something inside of the Prince to twinge, very painfully. He needed to rescue the Prince(ss), and there was no way he'd be able to do so in his current state, immobilized by his hangover and all.

And so, bracing himself, he threw his head back, and chugged. The taste was even more fowl than he had been anticipating. It was some sort of strange, horrible mixture between rotten eggs, spoiled milk, decomposing fish and…just generally revolting. There was really no way to describe it.

He felt about ready to throw up there and then, but continued on stolidly. Doing this was necessary, for himself, and for Japan! So he finished the concoction, gagging every time an inexplicably lumpy portion passed down his throat. His relief at finishing the goop was indescribable. And people said _his_ _cooking_ was inedible. He'd have to get some of this stuff to show them, as a comparison.

But, low and behold…it _worked_, and really well. The Prince could already feel the throbbing pain start to fade from his skull.

"So?" the thing prompted, a self-satisfied smirk already stretching across his lips.

"It's working," England admitted, grudgingly. "…Thanks."

"I knew it would!" the smirk only grew larger, impossibly enough. "Let's go!"

"All right," England got to his feet, depositing the glass on the counter, before following the thing out of the door. Time to leave the poor bartender in peace. England almost envied him. He had a feeling the concoction had not been the end to the gigantic headache that would be his trip with this…thing.

Mentally, he berated himself. In all his exasperation, pain, and disgust, he had forgotten to so much as ask the thing's name, much less…what exactly it was.

Bugger it all.


	13. Chapter 12

"Haha! I've made an awesome dinner! Now everyone will have to acknowledge me as a chef!" Sealand exclaimed.

"…Good luck with that" Iceland, the real chef, replied, glancing up from the _fiskibollur_ he was preparing when he noticed a certain bow-clad avian wasn't watching him cook. "Have you seen my puffin?" He never had to worry about any complaints against having said animal in the kitchen because everyone else was either employed for other jobs, too scared of Belarus to apply for a job at the castle, or—arguably worse—too scared of Sealand's cooking.

Both jumped as the kitchen door slammed open, exposing them to a rather determined looking Belarus.

"Where do you keep the apples?" She all but demanded.

"I used them all for tonight's dinner!" Sealand answered, pointing at the oven.

"Well, then, take it out so I can get one before it's completely baked!"

"I can't, the center hasn't stopped moving yet"

"WHAT!" Iceland cried, fearing the worst for his dear pet. He bolted to the oven and removed the casserole dish overflowing with brownish goo, placing it onto the nearby counter. In his haste, he forgot to put on his oven mitts.

His puffin chose this moment to flap over from the top of a cabinet to perch on Iceland's shoulder.

"Nooo! It hasn't stopped bubbling! You should listen to your senpai," Sealand whined, ignoring the fact he was younger than the chef and that the now very annoyed Iceland wasn't paying him any attention in favor of his injured hands.

Belarus apprehensively looked at the still bubbling mass of…she didn't want to know.

"Do you have rice?" she asked the assistant, because _he _wasn't currently nursing his burns in the sink.

* * *

"What do you have there, aru?" China questioned as Belarus walked in carrying a tray.

"Onigiri," she answered curtly

"Um…what for, aru?"

Belarus glanced over her spell book before walking to a chest against the wall of her secret lab and opening the lid to reveal a collection of vials containing various colored liquids. Selecting a lavender substance, she murmured, "I'm going to poison Japan".

"Don't you think that's going a little far, aru? All of your attempts failed; obviously fate doesn't believe he should die yet."

"Silence!" she hissed. "I _will_ marry big brother, and all I need to do is get rid of that prince!" Belarus poured a drop of the poison into the center of each rice onigiri before packaging them into a bento box she had commandeered years earlier from Korea as punishment for getting too close to her secret lab. Taking a moment's vacation from psychosis, she concluded that Korea most likely stole it from Japan.

"Now, since I can't rely on anyone else to do this right, I'll have to do it myself".

All China could do was say nothing for fear of getting smashed by the mentally deranged woman mumbling to herself.

"I'll have to disguise myself, but as what?" the noble ranted. "He loves cute things, but where to get a costume of something like that?" she paced, wracking her brain. "Russia has a panda costume! I'll steal it!"

With that thought in mind, she dashed off to her brother's room.

"Why couldn't I have had legs, aruuu?" whimpered the immobile magic mirror.

* * *

Arriving at her destination, Belarus reached for the doorknob. At that moment it opened, causing her to leap back in surprise.

"Sister?" Russia observed slightly fearfully.

Calming her racing heart, the woman quickly composed herself.

"Hello, Russia, how are you doing?"

"Fine," He replied cautiously. "What are you doing here?" he started inching around her.

"I was merely passing by, what about you?"

"Oh, um, I was just, uh-" his stomach growled. "I think I hear someone calling me, goodbye." Russia took off down the hallway; though, even his panic didn't stop him from noticing his sister was a bit…off.

Now that her precious brother was gone, Belarus took the opportunity to sneak into his room. Walking to the closet, she easily spied the animal costume sticking out amongst his more casual clothing. She always wondered why he had such an outfit, and even more so when he had the free time to get it as she wasn't stalk…looking out for his well-being when he did so. Grabbing the costume, she dashed back to her lab to don her newly acquired disguise and pick up the poisoned rice balls.

"…You can stop cackling, aru."

KA-THUNK!

The magic mirror again despaired over his lack of limbs while simultaneously thanking every god he could think of that the heavy magic tome the lady hurled had missed.

"You wait and see, Russia will be mine!" the noble declared through the panda head before pushing one of the stones in the wall, opening a secret passageway, complete with a canal and small boat.

China only heard more cackling until the door closed.

"What the hell, aru! How long has _that_ been there?"

* * *

It was nightfall by the time Prince England and Prussia made it to the edge of the forest around Japan's kingdom.

"See, you _were_ supposed to take a right after the bridge. You should listen to the awesome me more." Prussia gloated.

England simply grunted and looked to the side, but then did a double take.

"Oi, is that a giant panda?" He questioned incredulously.

"You and your imaginary friends. That's not very healthy, you know, and besides, you have me and my awesomeness with you. What else do you need? Well, come on! We have a brother to find and a prince to save!" the crimson-eyed chibi proclaimed, pumping his tiny fist into the air.

"That's my line, you git! And my friends are not imaginary!"

The chibi rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, and I have a bird on my head. Are we gonna go find them or what?"

"Wha- don't just bleeding take off like that! Oi, are you listening to me!" England called, urging Charles forward to follow the chibi that so far had only managed to infuriate him. No, Prussia did not make all of the right decisions on directions while they were traveling! He himself had been right exactly…that's not important. What was important was following said chibi so he didn't lose him in the tangle of vegetation. Because he couldn't let the little bugger get into any trouble; as annoying as he was, he reminded him too much of a certain rowdy child he had once known.

It most definitely wasn't because he was afraid of getting lost on his own. England scoffed at the thought, pushing through the underbrush.

"Japan, I'm almost there!"

* * *

**_fiskibollur_: Icelandic fish cakes made with minced fish, eggs, and seasonings fried to golden brown patties**


	14. Chapter 13

The party passed without significant event. It was rowdy, disorganized and crazy, as events with the Chibis tended to be, but there were no occurrences outside the normal range of insanity.

Japan enjoyed himself thoroughly, except when France and Italy tried to dance with him, stacked on top of each other, which would have been classified as traumatic for more than one party if Germany hadn't noticed as soon as he did. That aside he had laughed along with the rest, listened to their banter and watched their antics. It was especially humorous when Spain tried to Tango with a surprisingly compliant Romano (rose supplied by France). Despite all this however, his mind was partly elsewhere, thinking of the story Bashful had told him, wondering if Lithuania was really all right and imagining how things must be progressing back at the castle.

As much as his soon-to-be-sister-in-law had tortured him, as much as he sometimes felt trapped, the castle was his home since birth. It was comforting in its familiarity, even if its occupants were often anything but. He had grown up with the quirky personnel and he found himself missing them.

A tap on the shoulder stirred Japan from his thoughts. He looked down to see one of the Chibis looking up at him with big, half-lidded, sleepy eyes.

"You seem quiet," Greece remarked, in his slow, lethargic voice that so suited his personality. Japan half smiled to himself at the irony of the comment; this particular Chibi was no loudmouth himself, even on the rare occasions he wasn't asleep, like now.

"I've been thinking," Japan responded, the upturned corners of his mouth lingering, becoming pensive.

Observing his surroundings, he noticed how relatively quite it had grown, the majority of the Chibis having found a spot to settle down in for the night. From the scatted bottles and slumped over, mumbling forms, it was obvious alcohol had become involved, though Japan could not recall this introduction.

"…anything in particular?" Greece further queried, after a pause long enough to signal an end to most normal conversations. He sat down next to the human.

"My home," Japan answered vaguely, reluctant to get into the exact details: he had no desire to burden one of his newfound friends with his melancholic musings. A silence stretched between the two, soft and gently, yet filled with the expectance of more words.

Italy shifted in his dreams, drawing a similar reaction from Germany, with whom he was sharing the little perch of the loveseat. Spain had fallen asleep on the floor, traces of one of his goofy smiles still lingering, as he held Romano closer—the smaller Chibi had presumably joined the other after making positively sure he was completely asleep.

America and France were still giggling to each other through hiccups, the bottles having fallen out of their grasp long since, their eyelids drooping in the first grasps of sleep. Bashful was snoring softly between the two, curled up with a blanket and pillow. As he watched, America gave a last hearty laugh before flopping over on his brother, instantly asleep. Japan felt an involuntary smile cross his lips, replacing his wistful expression.

"…home now." Caught up in his observations as he was, Japan barely heard the last part of Greece's statement.

"Pardon me?" the young man asked, tilting his head downwards, apologetically, not meeting his friend's gaze. "I'm sorry. I seem to have—"

A soft thud on his shoulder startled Japan from his apology. He looked towards Greece, only to meet perpetually messy bed-head. Smiling with half amusement, half light exasperation, Japan shifted position ever so slightly, so that he was leaning back against the wall, doing his best to accommodate the Chibi's use of his arm as a pillow.

Thinking the other asleep, he gave into temptation and ruffled the brown mop a little. Greece's hair was soft, much like that of a particularly shaggy cat…

"I said…" the Chibi's voice, even mumbled and sleepy as it was, made Japan jump. "…I said…this's…your home…now."

A warmth welled up inside of him. Was this really what they thought? Had he somehow made the transition from an intruder, a burden, to…a part of this little family? Was this really his home now? He was just about to voice these thoughts—mouth open, poised to form words—when a surprisingly loud snore emitted from Greece.

With a sigh, Japan looked around the room, assessing the damage. There was stray food cast around, empty bottles, haphazard decorations, dirty plates and dishes. He should clean it up, and check on everyone. How much alcohol was dangerous to Chibis? What if they had had too much? He bit his lip, brow furrowing in concern.

Then again, he was probably worrying too much, over-thinking things, as usual. Besides, getting up would disturb Greece. He looked so peaceful; Japan couldn't bring himself to do it. So instead, he settled back contently against the wall. It was surprisingly comfortable there on the floor.

He let his eyes flutter close.

* * *

**Happy Valentine's Day, everyone :3**


End file.
